Disclaimer: I don't own Hikaru no Go. Otherwise, I'd be rich, famous, and able to either draw or write.

Touya Hikaru

-Chapter 1-

Demonic Voices

Excitedly, Hikaru slipped his soccer jersey on, stuffing his work clothes into his duffel bag and checked his reflection in the mirror before rushing back into the Go Salon. The interior of the salon was calm and quiet as older men sat around, playing games or watching other games. The serene silence was broken as the owner's son barreled through the room. "Sorry!" he apologized in a loud whisper as the patrons currently losing their games glared.

He walked up to the front desk, handing the red-haired waitress his bag of work clothes for her to hold on to until tomorrow when he would work again. "Good luck at your game, Hikaru-kun."

Hikaru grinned at the young woman. Her name was Harumi Ichikawa and she had been working in his father's salon since he was a little boy. Even as a high schooler, she had been nice to him, and now that he worked at the salon with her, she'd do him little favors like washing his soccer clothes between games and practices.

"Thanks! I'll do my best, and we'll kick as-" His cheer was interrupted by a large shadow falling over his back. "Uh...We'll kick Arachnid butt!" Ichikawa giggled as the shadow backed off the #2 jersey and its wearer rolled his eyes. 'Ogata's such a stickler...' he internally muttered, following the sihoette of white clad giant into the sunshine, the light reflecting off of his uncharacteristically blonde hair. "See ya, Nee-chan!" Hikaru called back into the salon.

"Good luck, Hikaru-kun!" a few of the men shouted, only to be glared at by the opponents they were beating.

Hikaru grinned and waved back. Even if he hadn't the slightest interest in Go, the patrons of the salon adored their perky little kid. Even the patrons with their own grandchild viewed him as a surrogate grandson. Hikaru's personality just rubbed off on people in a particular way – he was always open and friendly to people around him with a carefree air hanging around his person. His rounded face would shine when he smiled and his bright emerald eyes would shine when cheery.

Turning away from the Go salon, Hikaru took in the warmth of the warming spring. There was still the slight chill of winter, but the blazing summer was rearing its head, waiting for it's time to burn the unsuspecting Japanese kids, all of whom were getting the summer vacation jitters. There was still over a month before school would take a break, but already classes were becoming rowdier as the scent of pollen and sap reached their noses. Hikaru took at deep breath of Mother Nature and shielded his eyes from her blazing rays. Shouldering his duffel bag and using a swing-step, he saddled on up next to his 'personal chauffeur.' "Hey, Ogata. Is Dad coming to my game?" he asked, not expecting a positive reply.

Ogata ignored the lack of suffix. After knowing Hikaru for the past 14 years - only 12 of which had he been able to ignore the need of a suffix – he knew the boy detested formality and tradition. Two of the most important things on his father's list. "No," he replied bluntly, squashing Hikaru's hope. "He has a convention today. He se-"

"Sends his regards. 'Unfortunately I was detained by a adoring fans after my four hour exhibition game – which was actually quite enjoyable – even if I can't feel my feet anymore,'" Hikaru finished with a lofty accent, taking his father's absence worse than normal. "Same, usual, busy Dad." He sighed, weaving his fingers behind his head and raising his emerald eyes to catch the sun, only to shut his eyes against the light, a small frown marring his previously happy face. The bright sun stung his eyes as thoughts of his father stung his brain.

After a moment of thought and assault on his closed lids, he asked another question with a more varying response than the previous. "Is Mom coming?"

Without even bothering to look back, Seiji replied with a similar answer. "No. She is attending the Go convention with your father," came the nonchalant return. Hikaru stared at the glasses, glimmering in the sun, unable to see the cerulean eyes behind them. Seiji noticed the stare, and glanced down sideways with a look that clearly said, 'what is on your mind?'

"Sorry," Hikaru apologized, realizing he hadn't turned away. It just seemed weird to him that the pro Go player had amassed such an ability as to disregard any regular emotions and keep a straight face, no matter the situation.

Though, this was a common occurrence, as Ogata practiced a straight face both at and away from the Go board. The 9-dan had once tried to explain it as a skill any good Go player had to acquire to really become anything. Personally, Hikaru enjoyed displaying his emotions. If he was happy, he'd smile. If something was funny, he'd laugh. If he was scared...well, he might not admit that to anyone, but he still preferred to show emotion when the feeling struck him. Life was not a poker game, and neither was Go.

"So, it's just you and me again, huh, Ogata?" The question was really more of a statement that he only left open for Ogata to reject. Waltzing up to the side of Ogata's sports car, he dumped his eye-scorching, neon-yellow duffel bag into the trunk.

Ogata opened the driver's door and waited for Hikaru to get into the passenger's seat before answering. "I have a game."

"At the convention?" With a nod from the driver, Hikaru sighed. That was not the negative he had been hoping for. "Yeah, I get it, anyone who's even seen a Go board's gonna be there. Geez..." he sighed, blowing his black bangs out of his eyes and trying to picture the scenery flashing by as a scenic view.

That was the problem with Tokyo. Not to be mistaken, Hikaru was the epititmy of an urban kid. He was a video game expert and rarely a week went by without him visiting the arcade, but it was nice for change. He enjoyed taking the subway through the country and the rolling hills outside of the technology clogged city. Unfortunately, with the amount of time he dedicated to soccer, he couldn't usually take the four hour - round way - ride to the suburbs. Not to mention the expense.

Pulling himself back into the car, Hikaru glanced at Ogata's tight figure. His American mother had left her mark in his blonde hair, blue eyes, and more defined, European build, yet he had still retained his father's slanted eyes and smooth skin. However, the smoothness was lost in Ogata's rough eyes – scary, even while he smiled. For a man barely in his thirties, Ogata gave off the maturity and focus of a man years older than him. Hikaru grinned, deciding to make light of the situation. "To be honest, it's weird to see you at soccer games. You seem like a Shougi-" at the disdainful look, Hikaru re-picked the game of choice, "or Go player, not sports. 'sides, my teammates think you eat children for breakfast."

The driver rolled his eyes. "They should have gotten over that form of thinking back fourth grade." The freshman soccer player laughed. Ogata. Always the practical one.

"Yeah, it is pretty pathetic, but I can't really blame them. You always have such a serious look on your face." He poked Ogata in the shoulder to show it was all in good fun. "I mean, really, you look like you're chewing on a lemon all the time. Maybe a lime. Lighten up." If Seiji hadn't been driving, he was almost sure Hikaru would have leaned over and tried pulling the corners of his mouth into a smile.

As the car quieted down, Hikaru began feeling the uncomfortable silence. For Seiji, it was peace, but for the younger boy, he preferred noise. (This would be his urban heritage popping back in.) It would keep his mind off of darker thoughts. Mother Nature seemed to agree with Ogata, however, for just then a cloud passed in front of the sun, turning the bright, sunny day bleak and dreary. With the sunshine went Hikaru's happy exterior. He rolled down the window and stuck his head out, resting it on his forearms.

Once again, his father was too busy to watch him play, but it'd been that way since the third grade. His mother tried to come to as many games as she could, and even Ogata made sure to come to the championship games, but Touya Miejin was always busy with Go. Whether it was a tournament, a convention, a study group, or some other confounded Go-thing, Hikaru was beginning to grow tired of it. 'Maybe if I played Go he'd bother watching me sometimes,' he thought sarcastically, immediately throwing out the idea. Mentally, he hated his father for always being busy. The man only had one child, and he couldn't even make it to a few of Hikaru's games. 'Stupid, busy Dad.'

However, just as he finished curing his father, the cloud moved away, and sunlight glanced off the metal and windows of the many skyscrapers around the city.

Hikaru sighed, laughing with Mother Nature. Both of them knew he couldn't ever really be angry with his dad. Yeah, he was old-fashioned, extremely busy, couldn't take his mind off Go, and would shut himself up in his office for the few hours he was home, but his dad was still his dad.

'Still...' he mused. 'It would be nice if he'd come to even one game.' It'd been so long since Touya Meijin had made it to a game, and Hikaru wanted to show him how much he'd improved in eight years. 'Well...I guess I shouldn't really complain. I haven't bothered watching Dad's games since third grade. Maybe it's payback.' He smiled at the thought, but he knew his Dad wasn't the type for revenge. It was more likely coincidence. Hikaru had grown bored of even watching the video feed of his father's games on television back in the third grade, and when even a soccer ball couldn't keep him in the room for more than five minutes, his mother had given up on making in watch his father play. That year, he won his fourth title and became 'one-more-title' busy.

Seeing the soccer field out of the corner of his eye, Hikaru perked up and out of his dull mood. He leaned back inside the car and rolled the window up. With that out of the way, he readied his hand to unfasten his seat belt. Ogata rolled to a stop and the moment Hikaru felt the car finish decelerating, he undid his seat belt and lept out of the silent automobile. He dug his duffel bag out of the back, waving at Ogata. "Good luck," the pro said simply.

Grinning, Hikaru flexed comically. "I'm more worried about your game than mine. You better win."

The corner of Seiji's lip turned at the informal and underlying 'good luck.' It was the Hikaru way of encouraging people. 'I'll never be able to look him in the face if I lose my game and he wins his,' he thought to himself as he drove out of the parking lot and back into the congested streets. He grinned slightly as he thought of his next game. He would be up against the porker, Kurata 5-dan. Known for ascending through the ranks of the pros - and for eating the equivalent of three men - Ogata couldn't wait to knock Kurata down a peg or two. The portly man was known for having ascended quickly through the pro ranks after first becoming a pro. In the two years he had been a pro, he had grown exponentially, and was already battling against the upper dans. However, with a quick riser like Kurata, all it took was one loss to send them spiraling back down, and Ogata planned to begin that spiral.

Heaving a heavy breath, Hikaru hustled in after the rest of his team. The sun was beating down on them, dehydrating the players even quicker than usual. Endurance had always been a fault of the team as a whole, but the relentless sun only increased the problems. The coach gave them all a pat of encouragement and pulled them all into a tightly woven circle. As the regulars panted for air, the bench warmers brought around their respective bottles of water. Hikaru grasped his from four, and nodded in thanks, too out of breath to say a word. He tried pouring the cool liquid down his throat, but the majority of it ending up spilling all over his face and drenching his shirt.

Shaking his wet bangs, Hikaru turned his face towards the coach as the middle-aged man recapped the game. Hikaru had never understood that. They were playing in the game, so of course they would know the score and time left. Still, he remained apart of the silent audience.

"Okay, we're tied 1-1 and it's only half time, so let's get some more points on the board, and quick! Touya!" Hikaru looked up surprise and anticipation. Could the coach could really be sending him out as...The large, orange-haired coach gripped the #2 striker's shoulders, staring at him intently. "I want you to score, got it? You have to attack hard. I will not accept a tie for his game, got it? Go out there and hit them with everything you've got." Hikaru shook his head, his brain swimming. He was only a Freshman, and he was being trusted to run the field? "Can you do it?"

Take a large gulp of strangely cold air that only succeeded in drying out his mouth and throat, he let out a breathy, "Yeah, Coach. I can do it." Through the exhausted body, his emerald green eyes shone, the sun glinting off them, giving him the look of a hawk, searching for his prey.

"Thad'a boy!" the coach cried, patting him on the back. "You're calling the shots now, Hikaru. So, let's go out there and win this game, right?"

"Yeah!" the team shouted, rushing back out onto the field, energy momentarily restored.

Once at the head of the field, Hikaru took a quick, sharp look at the Arachnid's formation before calling out, "Formation Delta!" Responding instantly, the team shifted around, waiting for the kick-off. The moment the ball was in play, jerseys two, five, and eight were a blur. The three strikers flew around the court, trying to steal the ball and managing to kick it out of bounds more than once. Two of the Arachnid strikers brushed past the first line of defense, only to be stopped by the mid-fielders.

Number six, a master dribbler, stared intently at the ball as seventeen advanced on him. At the last second, he slipped his foot in, successfully stealing the ball from under the Arachnid's feet and dribbled it up to the strikers. With a quick pass, the ball changed from the feet of six to the feet of number two. Hikaru coveted the ball, fending off the attacks of the striker that had stayed behind. The other defense had set their sights on preventing a pass.

Fifteen swiftly advanced on Hikaru, trapping him almost on top of the out of bounds line. Glancing at the field quickly, Hikaru made a split-second decision. Dicing the ball between his feet, he caused 15 to crouch even lower to the ground.

That was exactly what Hikaru had been waiting for.

With a flick of his foot he lifted the ball, bouncing it on his knees quickly before dropping right back to the ground and kicking it through his opponent's open legs. Fifteen had popped up in response to the lift, and didn't have a chance to drop back down and prevent the kick. He twisted around after the successful nutmeg, ready to retrieve the ball.

The audience groaned, thinking Touya had thrown the ball away, but his still bright eyes and flashing grin proved them wrong. As the coach regretted his decision to trust a Freshman with the field, Hikaru lunged over fifteen, rolling to his feet, and charged in with the ball, surprising even the goalie. With a strong hook shot, Hikaru heard the swish of a successful winning shot in the top left corner. "YEAH!" The crowd went wild and Hikaru was instantly smothered by his teammates who easily knocked him to the ground.

"Hey, break it up!" the coach yelled from the sidelines. "We still have to hold 'em for another seven minutes!" Even with the other seven minutes, the Arachnids were finished. Their hope had left with Hikaru's unusual move, and Haze had gotten its second wind. Still, the long awaited whistle of the referee brought roaring cheers from the audience and the field. The team managed to easily knock Touya over as they showered him with praise.

"That was sooo awesome!" called the first.

"Dude, where the hell'd you get a move like that?" cheered another, smiling.

"Up high, Touya!" yelled a third.

Hikaru smiled at all the compliments and returned every high-five that came his way. If not for his flat out declination of it, the team would already have hoisted him up on their shoulders and paraded him around. The coach cut through the throng of chaotic teenagers and ruffled Hikaru's hair till it was past repair. "You're such an unconventional player, Touya. Only you could have come up with such a wacky, stupidly dangerous move like that."

"Hey, you were the one who gave me the chance, coach." The team laughed as Hikaru placed the blame on the adult.

"Good job, kid."

Grinning from ear to ear, Hikaru felt more at home around his teammates and could already feel the regret that he'd soon have to leave for home. Even as the dull thought crossed his mind, he spied parents parting the sea of teenagers, looking for their own children. 'If only Mom or Dad could have been here to see that play,' he thought sadly. Shaking the gloomy thoughts from his head, he made his way to the bench, only to have his legs give out beneath him.

In seconds the coach was by his side. "Hey! Hey, Touya, are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, coach. I'm f-" he grunted, pain shooting up from his legs as he attempted to stand up. Predicting the coach's next question, he pointed sheepishly to his legs. It was embarrassing to not even be able to stand. "I think I pulled some muscles with that jump."

Understanding, the coach stood and skittered over to the first-aid box, pulling out a pair of cooling/heating pads. "Here we go," he muttered as he kneeled down next to Hikaru. He ripped open the packets and pressed the pads firmly to Touya's legs. "How does that feel?" His only response was a hiss of pain. "Good. That means it's working. With your adrenaline finally wearing off, you're going to feel every bit of pain."

"Oh, the joy," Hikaru muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He bit through the initial pain to turn to his teammates with an important question. "Hey, did anyone get that last move on tape?"

The goalie, nineteen, - always first to have a solution - immediately piped up. "I think my mom was taping the game! Want me to burn you a copy?"

Flashing his famous smile, Hikaru answered with a, "Yeah. That'd be great, thanks!" He couldn't wait to show the footage to his dad. Glancing over to the parking lot, he saw the tell tale red sports car sitting by the entrance, telling him it was time to take his exit. "Hey, guys, I gotta go. My ride's h-" he fell to the ground for the second time that day, this time feeling the loss before collapsing in a clumsy mess. He was becoming more and more against the taste of dirt and grass. Muttering and rubbing his legs, he apologized. "I guess my legs still hurt."

"Hey, we can help out our ace anytime!" came the bubbly voice of on of the defenders. Between him and the number five striker, they managed to hoist Hikaru up and help him limp towards the parking lot. Meanwhile, one of the mid-fielders, - desperate to make himself useful - hefted up the duffel bags of the currently tied up trio and followed them to the parked automobile. More than once on their escapade to the car, they were stopped by different members of the opposing team, congratulating Hikaru on his excellent move. Even fifteen gathered the courage to admit it was pretty amazing. Hikaru grinned at all the compliments, his smile only faltering when he came in view of the driver.

Ogata exited his car with a look of annoyance on his face. "I'm fine, Ogata!" Hikaru called in a silly voice, hoping to wipe away the unwanted face. Wordlessly, Seiji swiped the blinding yellow bag from the awkward mid-fielder and dumped it in the trunk while the teenager congratulated the star of the day and raced off. Once the duffel bag was taken care of, all that was left was getting its owner in the front seat. Once Hikaru was safely in the car, the other two players made their leave in the same manner as the first had. Sighing at his friends' wasted fear, Hikaru waved goodbye while Ogata revved the car and drove out of the parking lot.

As soon at the fields were out of sight, the blond driver glanced at the injured taking up space in his passenger's seat. "So, what happened, and will this entail a drive to the hospital?"

Laughing sarcastically at Ogata's bad attempt at a joke, Hikaru rolled his eyes and exaggerated his, "No." He settled down in his seat before answering his chauffeur. "Well, ya see there we were at half time, the score tied, 1-1, and the coach was trying to get us psyced up for the rest of the game. So, in the middle of his speech, he appoints me to run the field. I go out there – guns a ablazing and firing orders – and before I know it, it's just me with the ball looking straight at the goal. The only thing between me and the 'hero of the game' trophy, was a defender on their side. So, what do I do? I take the ball, dice it, lift it, added a nice little nutmeg to the mixture, and then-" He cut off, realizing Ogata had inadvertently tuned him out. Sighing, he summed the game's conclusion up. "I scored the winning goal. 2-1."

"Um-hm. Good, good." Ogata said vaguely. Hikaru wasn't even sure the pro realized how big that was, especially for a Freshman, but he let it slide.

After sitting in silence for awhile, Hikaru turned towards a topic Ogata could enjoy. "So, how'd your game go?"

"It was a good game. Kurata is quite a wild card which makes him harder to predict. During Chuu-ban - middle game - he placed a stone at 15-5, and I realized-" Ogata stopped, seeing - out of his peripheral - a deer-in-the-headlights look was being aimed at him. "I won," he said simply, clearing away the foggy look.

"Good job, Blondie!" Hikaru replied, patting the Go player's shoulder. Thankfully Ogata had grown used to this behavior and merely shrugged it off. The rest of the ride was spent either in awkward silence or light, skin-deep conversation, if even that deep. Honestly, 'nice weather we're having'?

Hikaru had been planning to limp up to his soccer practice after school the next day and at least watch his teammates play, but the moment his coach caught his eye, he sent Touya home. "I want you off your leg," he used as an excuse.

Pouting, Hikaru countered. "I only wanna watch, Coach. I won't participate, I promise."

The coach rolled his eyes at Hikaru's prized stubbornness. "Look, you're injured and we're up against Kaio next. I want you in top form, so go home and rest, 'kay?" Touya sighed, but agreed and began the long trudge home. He could have easily called Ogata, but he wanted to stretch his already aching legs.

After five minutes of walking, he realized how bad the idea that had been. Doubling back slightly, he sauntered down into the subway and caught the next train towards his house.

Sitting on the train and staring out the window, Hikaru lazily tried planning out what he could do. On Saturdays they got out at noon instead of the usual afternoon dismissal. Unfortunately, all his friends were on the soccer team and were practicing, so he had no one to spend the day with. When the bell rang for his stop, he still had yet to come up with any ideas on how to spend his day off. He dragged himself up the front walk and slid open the door to the house, staring at his feet the whole way. "Mom! I'm ho-" Nearly walking into a familiar white suit, Hikaru had to back off a step. "Ogata?" he exclaimed in surprise. "What're you doing here?"

Said pro backed into the hallway, allowing Hikaru entrance into the interior. "Your father and I were about to head over to an antique store," he explained.

"Oh," Hikaru said pathetically, changing out his out door shoes for his indoor ones. "So Dad's here?" he asked, dropping his bag unceremoniously by the kitchen table. He grabbed the apple his mother had left for him and read her note about going for groceries as he bit into the crunchy fruit.

"Yes. He's getting a few things out of his study before we go. I thought you had soccer practice." He glanced over Hikaru's shoulder, glancing over the note quickly.

"Nope. Since I hurt my legs coach wanted me to rest up. I thought I'd just sit around and play video games till I have to go to work," he said nonchalantly. Ravenous, he threw the core of the hastily eaten apple into the garbage and began the search for the left over curry in their refrigerator.

"Ah." Ogata watched Hikaru's futile attempt to find the curry with amusement. "If that's the case, would you like to join me and your father?"

Hikaru made a face into the refrigerator. "You mean go look at a buncha old relics that are over priced?"

He was ready to reject the offer when Ogata pulled an ace out of his sleeve. "I'll drive you to work afterwards." Hikaru glared. The pro had just hit him where it hurt. Ever since he'd gotten that job, his dad had made him pay for his subway tickets, and he had just lost his free ride home for the day by taking the train instead of going to practice.

Grudgingly he agreed. "Let me go get changed." He stuffed the newly found curry into the microwave and heated it up as he raced - slowly - to his room, sliding down the wooden hallways. He changed into a yellow number two shirt and black gym shorts before skidding back into the kitchen using the door frame to swing himself around the corner. Wolfing down his food before slipping into his yellow and black shoes, he joined Ogata and his father in the car. "Hey, Dad," he said unsurely.

"Hello, Hikaru. And how was your day? Ogata informed me you were exempt from soccer practice today."

Exempt? The formality surrounding his dad was suffocating Hikaru. He knew his dad was just more traditional then most, but it made conversations sound detached, as if he wasn't even talking to the man that was his father. Why not skipped?

"I had a good day, I guess. I mean, I was a little sore from the soccer game yesterday. See, the coach trusted me to run the field when it was tied 1-1, so I got the ball and tried to plow towards the goal, but fifteen was blocking me, so I had to go around him, but he wouldn't let that. I realized I had to make my own opening, so I diced the ball, and lifted it, and-" Hikaru had been explaining the whole game in an excited tone, but he could tell that despite the look of interest on Touya Meijin's face, that he wasn't understanding the soccer terms and could really care less. "Well, long story short I scored the winning goal and pulled my leg muscles in the process."

"Ah. I hope they're feeling better now."

"Yeah, they are," Hikaru said with a smiled, but he had to wonder if his dad even knew what it meant to pull a muscle. Could you pull a muscle playing Go? Oh well, at least he was pretending. For now, Hikaru couldn't ask anymore from him. "So are we going to look at anything in particular?"

Ogata spoke from the driver's seat. "Yes. There is apparently a Go board that belonged to Honin'bou Shuusaku. Your father and I were planning to examine the board. If it does turn out to be a Go board of Honin'bou Shuusaku's, we may even buy it."

Rolling his eyes, Hikaru knew that 'we may buy it' meant that if Touya Meijin didn't buy it first, Ogata would. Staring lamely at the expensive leather interior of the car, he asked a question he knew he'd regret one day. "So, um...who's Honin'bou Shuusaku?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ogata handed the question over to his passenger. "Honin'bou Shuusaku was a Go player who lived a hundred years ago and was known as the rising star of his time. He was the greatest player of his time and even now he is considered a genius of the game."

"Oh," Hikaru said. He should have figured it was some old, dead, fantastic Go player. Hopefully the other man wasn't as obsessed with the game as his dad had become.

"The sad part is he died so young." Hikaru glanced up. He had figured the story was over, but there seemed to be even more to the old Shuusaku. "There was a disease floating around at the time. The rumor is he may have caught it while playing so many people, any of whom could have been infected. However, in the end the result was the same. He died of the disease at the young age of 34. Even by their times' standards, it was an early death."

Somewhat uncomfortable by the depressing tale, Hikaru uttered only an, "Ah, I see." Feeling far more awkward than he should have, he fell back to his escape pod and began to stare at the greens, blues, and grays that passed the window.

The day was cooler then the last, but barely less sunny. The humidity had receded, but the light remained, making up for the lack of moisture in the air. He watched as grocery stores, technology sales men, and food vendors a like flew by. He noticed little, unimportant scenes, such as the baby throwing his rattle out of the stroller and the young man who picked it up and passed it kindly to the mother. He smiled and laid his chin comfortably on his forearms, sliding the window down and smelling the breeze as it blew his bangs all over his face. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before re-opening his eyes and returning his view to the clumps of people they were speeding by.

Back in grade school, Hikaru had enjoyed walking around outdoors and playing - anything to get out of the house. When he sold his soul to the soccer, he had been able to stay outside and play with people on a daily basis, but now he walked less due to constantly sore legs and he spent his home life cooped up in the house, already spending hours outside at soccer practice.

He heaved a sigh. Maybe he was addicted to soccer as much as his father was addicted to Go. Unfortunately, Touya Meijin could play Go all his life, but Hikaru would have to give up soccer as his body gave into the physical stress.

"Hikaru," his father called from the front. "Do you mind closing the window?" Smiling sadly, he aquiested and the window shut, blocking out the wind and warm spring air.

Within a few minutes, the pulled in front of an old store proudly bearing a sign proclaiming, "Kousuke's Antiques" in bold gold lettering. Taken aback at how run down the place appeared, Hikaru shot Ogata an incredulous look. The lettering was peeling off of the sign, which was already at such a dangerous angle even Hikaru realized it needed to be adjusted. The windows were old, covered with dust and dirt kicked up from the road, making it almost impossible for Hikaru to stick his nose to the glass and peer in, and from what he could see, the condition of the establishment inside, reflected it's outward appearance. (Though, the distortion could have been due to the centimeters of dirt on the pane.)

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Ogata glared at the insinuation, but he was also worried. It didn't seem like the place that would house something as valuable as Shuusaku's own Go board. If anything, they might have it, but he felt like it would have been stolen. Still, he followed the confident and courageous Meijin into the building.

Tromping behind, Hikaru glanced at the abandoned road before following the adults inside, cringing with every step. Where as the day had earlier been bright and sunny, it was blocked by sky scrappers in this area in just a way that it created a creepy, musty look. He limped into the store to fine the inside was vastly different than its exterior. There were bright lights scattered across the entire room, brightening up the place. The interior was modernized as if it had been re-modeled the day before. The walls were a bright, yet subtle and calming green. The floor was covered with rugs of all shapes, sizes, textures, and colors. Paintings filled the walls, but not in an over congested way. Waltzing up to the counter, behind the two enormous men, Hikaru could hear the owner shuffling out of the back. Where he had expected an old, insane man a perfectly sane old man stood in his place.

The owner - Kousuke - still had all of his hair, but it was pure-snow, white. He had a soft face with just the perfect amount of wrinkles, giving him a gentle feel. "Hello. May I help you?" he asked politely. Not too formal or traditional, but just enough so to sound professional.

"We heard you had a Go board that once belonged to Honin'bou Shuusaku." The Meijin stated.

Kousuke thought for a moment. "Ah, yes. Over here." He guided the trio over to the corner where a solitary Go board stood, calling to be played on. "My brother believes it once belonged to that legendary player. I'm sure you would be a better expert than either of us, of course." Touya Meijin gestured that he wished to see the board. Kousuke backed off, allowing Kouyou to inspect the board.

Hikaru - who had been milling around, glancing at the other items on display - now joined his father next to the table. "Hey, Dad, should this stain really be here?" he asked, pointing to the crimson blotch in the corner that had dribbled towards the middle. He didn't know about go, but he figured that the spot was not part of the game.

Curious, the three older men crowded around the board, examining the corner in question. "Hikaru, there isn't a stain." Touya Meijin said, staring intently at the supposed spot on the board, thinking that perhaps if he stared long enough, he would see the blemish as well. The other two men nodded in agreement, the owner more fervently than Ogata.

Incredulous, Hikaru protested, jabbing his finger at the spot. "You guys, it's right here! It looks...well, it kinda looks like blood," he noticed, making a face and pulling his finger back a few centimeters. "Well...nonetheless, it's still there!

You can see it?

"Yes! That's what I've be-" Hikaru froze. He had assumed the voice belonged to one of the men behind him, but the melodious voice was far too young and smooth to belong to the gruff Ogata or the older Meijin. He had not known the antique dealer as long, but he doubted the voice was that of the older man. "Who's there?" he called into the recesses of the room. He could see no one. Not even a shadow existed, but the voice...the voice was real. As real and beautiful as a flute, yet choked.

Ogata and Touya Meijin looked down at Hikaru with worry. The door had never opened, and the shop was quiet. They began worrying over the young boy's mental health. "Hikaru-kun." Ogata joined him in his search around the room. "Hikaru-kun, we're the only one's here."

"No," Hikaru whispered. "No, there's someone else...Where are you!" He called, beginning to frighten even the cold and fearless Seiji Ogata. Hikaru searched, his eyes whizzing around so fast that his vision began to blur. 'Where is it? Where is this voice coming from?' He heard the sound of dripping water and considered that he maybe going mad.

I thank you, God.

The voice called again, without provocation.

I thank you for yet another chance.

Hikaru took a step back in fear as a white sheet began to materialize in front of him. His back bumped into the table behind him and the white cloth surrounded him till he could no longer see either Ogata or his father. 'What's going on?'

Thank you for letting borrow this life.

Tears formed at the corners of Hikaru's eyes, believing he was about to be spirited away, or have his soul eaten by the devil. "Dad! Ogata!" he cried in fear as the face of a young man appeared before him. The pale smooth skin, clear of blemishes after all the maidens he'd eaten. The bloodied lips. The crimson pearls that adorned his ears. The large black hat was that commonly seen on the head of a demon, disguised as a human, hundreds of years ago. His black hair glowed purple in the surreal light that nearly blinded Hikaru. The piercing mauve eyes stared through the terrified child, and the last thing Hikaru saw before his world was plunged into darkness were those intense, mauve eyes.

[Edited AN] So, decided to make some edits (both mechanical, and idea-ical). While I work on latter chapters, I'm just gonna revamp the old chapters to make more sense and so you all get where I'm coming from with different characters. Nothing major, just the basics. Well, hope you enjoy the edited version!

[Old AN] Wow. I thought up this idea a while ago, but didn't start writing it until the other day. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure where this will end up, but I know the road stops along the way. Anyway, I decided to go for a serious HnG fic after my other one, and I kinda like it. If you like it too, please review. If you don't like it, please flame. (It'll help with my tan.) If you didn't finish reading it, the constructive criticism would still be appreciated. (I'm about to win Sorry and I've been writing the whole time...hmm...) Sorry for any mistakes.